Wanderer
by the river
he looks lost
his face appears ancient
in rumination
under the sycamores’
embracing shade
thinks he might see
God
he meets no God
in this heaven
of sacred groves just the rippling river
rushing over stones
and pebbles
as if it has
somewhere to go
and cannot wait
he stands still
and contemplates . . .
©Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
all I hear is this song…
carried to my ears upon waves
as they ebb and return
a symphony of love
played on instruments
of the heart— -
sultry afternoon
in the vast cornfields
reaping gold -
I wait eagerly
for absolute darkness
to lose my shadow -
I drop pebbles slowly
watch them fall
in a shallow stream -
she reaches out
touches fog
she had hoped
for the sun
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